Wherever You Go
by MerelyLily
Summary: Moiraine Amell, a bit of a resolutionist, escapes the circle to find herself with a duty as a Warden, no longer sure what freedom is. Maerwyn Cousland, pissed at Duncan for her forced conscription, thinks she dislikes her new responsibilities. Wherever you go, there are always chains. Amell/Zevran. Part of my Greyscale Series, gets more AU after Origins. Origins mostly canon
1. Been There Done That (A)

I: Been There Done That

_So go on say what you wanna say / and save me from this misery / cause I know what you're getting at / and I've been there done that (Been There Done That, Hedley)_

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><p>Moiraine I<p>

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><p>"'Magic exists to serve man, never to rule over him,'" Greagoir quoted, the first thing to be said since 'It is time.' He proceeded to explain what needed to be done, and the consequences.<p>

I simply shot the Knight-Commander a scathing look when he was finished before stalking up to the pedestal, and without hesitating, touched the lyrium. My hand began to glow, and I did not move or become frantic as that glow enveloped me.

It was dark for a moment before my vision returned and I was standing in the familiar haziness of the Fade. There were odd statues and a familiar, repetitive landscape of pathways and twisted plants that weren't truly plants. I moved to follow the path, assuming it would lead me to whatever demon I had to kill.

I walked along fussing with the robes I _still_ wore, and wishing I didn't. I might be used to them for the most part, after so many years in them, but I still hated the restricted leg movement. Being in the Fade, it didn't matter what happened to them, as they weren't really my robes, so I picked up the hem and tore a slit all the way up to the thigh in one side, then in the other. Feeling a little better, I continued hesitantly along the path.

I doubted it would be as simple as killing a demon. That would prove nothing but one's worth in combat. That wasn't what they were trying to test; no, it would try to tempt me.

I wondered what sort of demon I would attract. Not sloth, surely, nor despair or vanity. Definitely not fear. Rage, perhaps, but I thought I was strong enough to attract more than a simple rage demon. Anyone could attract a rage demon, if they grew angry. They need not be prone to anger. I was, though. It made no difference. Desire was likely. Stronger than a rage demon, and I had been tempted by desires before, in my dreams. Then again, desires will tempt anyone; every human has desires. Some are just more likely to give in than others. I'd seen desires work with despairs, to attempt to force someone to despair, then the desire shows up and offers them everything they've lost. Or a demon of regret.

Pride was most likely, I admitted to myself. Then again, if I was able to admit to myself that I was most likely to attract a pride demon, was I so far gone into pride, seeing as I knew I was vulnerable to pride? I knew my weaknesses. Did that make me more or less likely to be tempted by one? Though, pride was the strongest sort of demon. Thinking I would attract the strongest was most definitely prideful. Or is it realistic? Is thinking it is realistic prideful, considering the strength of a pride demon?

I made a note to write down my musings later, when I got out of this. There it is again: when. Was it prideful to think I had no chance of failing? Need that be a bad thing?

A wisp wraith appeared in front of me, and the jolt it shot at me was barely a shock. I summoned a fireball in my hand and killed the wraith with barely a thought, and not even having broken stride.

"Someone else thrown to the wolves. Fresh and unprepared as ever. It isn't right that they do this, the templars. Not to you, me, anyone," a disembodied voice said, and I looked around in confusion. A phrase repeated itself in my mind, from my very first day of lessons at the tower, taught by a bitch of an Enchanter named Marreia. The phrase was more a joke, one I told Morgase, but still, the thought stuck with me: _Apparently, everything that moves, thinks, sees, communicates or dances in the Fade is evil._

It was a mouse. I frowned at it. Damn, I agreed with its sentiment. Save the bit where I was 'fresh and unprepared,' but that made me even more wary. My distrust aside, I wasn't about to just attack _everything_. I would've preferred that, though. "I didn't think the Fade had rodent problems. Tell me, are Fade-rats as difficult to get rid of as Thedas-rats?"

"Do you think you're really here?" the voice went on. It was coming from the rat, but its lips did not move. I let out a condescending chuckle I didn't appreciate. "In that body? You look like that because you _think_ you do!"

"So you think so little of yourself you appeared as a rat?" The rat ignored me, and went on. Apparently, it needed to finish it's thoughts before I was acknowledged. It sighed.

"It's always the same. It's not your fault, though. You're in the same boat I was, aren't you?" The mouse glowed too brightly to look at, so I averted my eyes. Then a man in apprentice robes stood in front of me. "Allow me to welcome you to the Fade. You can call me... well, Mouse."

"If that's how it's going to go, you can call me Cat." Mouse made an irritated noise.

"I don't have another name to give you. I don't remember anything from... before. The templars kill you if you take too long you see. They figure you failed, and they don't want something getting out," he said, looking bitter. "That's what they did to me, I think. I have no body to reclaim. And you don't have much time before you end up the same."

I didn't think that was how it worked, if your body died while you were in the Fade. I thought you just faded out, into death. Maybe not? I had no direct information, just what I'd always assumed. Well, I wasn't taking anything at his word, but I had no counter-proof.

"Where's this demon, then, and what do I do with it?" I asked, directly. Time limit or no, he was wasting my time. If his story rang true, it was the templars fault and there was nothing I could do, either way. I'm not sure what he expected of me. Unless he was some sort of demon, that is.

"It is here, contained, waiting for an apprentice like you. You have to face the demon, and resist it, if you can. That's your way out, or your opponent's, if the templars wouldn't kill you. A test for you, a tease for the creatures of the Fade."

"So I kill it. I doubt it's that simple," I pointed out, impatiently.

"You would be a fool to just attack everything you see," Mouse said. _Yes, that's why I didn't break the little mouse's neck. So we've established I'm no fool. Your point? _I bit back the reply. "What you face is powerful, cunning. There are others here, other spirits. They will tell you more, maybe help. If you can believe anything you see."

I wasn't about to trust anything I saw. Not even this Mouse. A weapon would be nice, though. That was the only thing... Unless it _was_ a pride demon I'd have to kill. Then, maybe aid was in order. I frowned mentally. "I'll follow, if that's all right. My chance was long ago, but you... you may have a way out." I looked away as the light became blinding, and when I looked back there was a mouse following me.

"Just don't get in the way," I snapped, before turning and following the path. After rounding the corner, I spotted a ring of fire, probably where the demon was waiting.

"The dangerous spirit is near. Do not approach unless you are ready," Mouse advised in the disembodied voice of his, and I almost stepped into the circle out of spite. The path continued, though, and I was tempted to continue following it. Other spirits, he'd said? I was curious. There would be only one demon, yes? Or could there be more than one?

How did they get demons to agree to Harrowings, anyways? No demon was stupid enough to possess someone, if they knew the second they arrived in the mortal world they'd be cut down. Save, perhaps, a rage demon. A rage demon, then, the lowest. That would make... some small sense, but leave too many other holes.

Down the path, I could see an ethereal form. I was curious; a demon wasn't ethereal, the way a spirit was, unless it was powerful enough to change its shape. Perhaps it was a pride, then. Perhaps Mouse was a demon. I shook my head. Demons everywhere. They couldn't all be demons, could they? I decided to investigate the spirit, following the path but trying to keep one eye on the flame circle until it was out of range.

It was an ethereal man in plate armor, a spirit, probably, with a few weapon racks around him. They were ethereal, but that didn't make them useless; not in the Fade. I walked over to the spirit, and he spoke.

"Another mortal thrown into the flames and left to burn, I see," he said, and it was similar enough to Mouse's greeting to give me pause. "Your mages have devised a cowardly test. Better you were pitted against each other to prove your mettle with skill, than to be sent unarmed against a demon."

I appreciated the sentiment, but it was unrealistic. It didn't understand the way the world worked; obviously demon or spirit, capable only of understanding the stark contrast of yes or no, against their virtue. No, the fact that both Mouse and this spirit knew I was here for a Harrowing unsettled me.

"You know why I'm here? How?"

"You are not the first sent here for such testing. Nor shall you be the last, I suspect. That you remain means you have not yet defeated your hunter. I wish you a glorious battle to come," he replied, the fool. Glory. I frowned, moving to the next thought. So every mage was sent to the same place in the Fade? Was that possible? It must be. I ignored it, pushing to my next question.

"What sort of spirit are you, then?" I asked. Glory, maybe? Was that a sort of spirit? Glory was for fools.

"I am Valor, a warrior spirit. I hone my weapons in search for the perfect expression of combat," he answered simply. Fool. Combat was not perfect. It was bloody and chaotic, and this coming from one who has only experienced a few small fights, and a lot of training. I ignored it, not wasting my time.

"These weapons. You made them?" I asked, but I didn't give him a chance to answer, already having assumed such from 'I hone my weapons in search for the perfect expression of combat.' "They'll affect the demon? I could use one?"

"Of course. Here, everything that exists is the expression of a thought. Do you think these blades be steel? The staves be wood? Do you believe they draw blood? A weapon is the single need for battle, and my will makes that need reality. Do you truly desire one of my weapons? I will give you one, if you agree to duel me, first. Valor shall test your mettle as it should be tested."

That seemed contradictory to what he'd said before, about me being 'sent unarmed against a demon.' I didn't believe that, of course, a mage was always armed. But, he did. Not to mention I did not say the words 'I agree' in the Fade.

"I thought it was cowardly to be sent unarmed against a more powerful foe," I pointed out, running with it.

"How dare you accuse me? I am a being of valor and honor, a warrior! I am no coward, to prey on helpless, unarmed mortals like a demon!" The bastard got defensive, apparently.

"So you're challenging an, I quote, _helpless, unarmed mortal_ to a duel?" I pressed. He was glowering. Who knew spirits glowered? Interesting.

"You are insolent..." _The amount of times I've been told that... _"But your will in unquestionably strong." I wondered where he got that. I just pointed out faults in his logic. "Very well, mortal. You prove to me that you possess the strength to defeat this demon. Go, prove your worth as you must. I am confident you will succeed." He agreed, just like that, and as upset by having his logic faulted as any mortal. Odd. He handed me an ethereal staff, which was solid in my hands. I spun in in my hand and tipped an imaginary hat to the spirit, before turning and walking back to the circle of fire, the one thing I'd wished I'd had in hand.

I whistled a cheerful tune, following the path. When Mouse said that there was another spirit here, but that it wasn't the one hunting me, I realized I'd gone in the wrong direction. I cursed my own foolishness. Mouse had said nothing because he did not know of my intentions to return. I decided to go with it, to salvage my pride in front of the rodent. An odd thing. Perhaps I would be a pride demon?

But then, why would a pride demon be so unintelligent as to partake in a Harrowing, where he cannot win? I dismissed the thoughts, as they only went in unanswerable circles.

"Hmm... so you are the mortal being hunted? And the small one... is he to be a snack for me?" the... bear... said. It's lips moved this time. I tilted my head, wishing not everything here knew my intentions.

"I don't like this," Mouse said, in human form, suddenly standing beside me. I almost jumped in surprise, but refrained. "He's not going to help us. We should go..."

"No matter," the bear sniffed. "The demon will get you eventually, and perhaps there will even be scraps left."

"What sort of... well, what are you?" I asked, knowing it wasn't a spirit. If it wasn't a spirit, was the only answer a demon? What did that make Mouse? Or the wisps wraiths? I could almost give myself a headache, theorizing over answers I wouldn't get.

"It's a demon. Maybe even more powerful than the one chasing after you," Mouse replied for the demon. I nodded. That was what I thought. Though, demons weren't always reason to scream and run in fear; they didn't always wish you harm. Of course they were reason to leave, but they weren't about to possess you on sight. They needed an agreement from you, inadvertent or intentional, it doesn't matter. I could handle that, for the moment. I wanted to know what sort of demon it was, in reference to my pride/rage theorizing.

"Begone! Surely you have better things to do than bother Sloth, mortal. I tire of you already," the demon answered, though it wasn't a direct acknowledgement of my question. With it answered, though, I nodded and left, keeping one eye on it. I went back the way I came, cure not to get lost the second time.

I arrived at the circle of fire, and as I stepped confidently into it, Mouse's disembodied voice said that it was a spirit of rage. They were all spirits, I knew, and we only attributed the name of 'demon' to those of malevolent intent. I walked up to the demon, who didn't attack on sight.

A rage demon, then? Was it because only rage was foolish enough to possess someone about to die? Or did I truly attract a rage demon? I was possible, with Mouse's condescension, but I didn't think so. I maintained that I would've attracted at least a desire, and probably a pride.

"And so it comes to me at last," the demon drawled in a deep voice. I'd never heard a rage demon speak. I'd always assumed they were below it. The damn think flailed about with its arms like the flame it was, and I knew it'd been ready for this. "Soon I shall see the land of the living with your eyes, reature. You shall be mine, body and soul."

"What, not going to try to convince me of anything? How do you propose to possess me if you kill me? Besides, even if you were foolish enough to possess me by force, after defeating me without killing me, which you won't be able to do, the templars will kill you. Immediately," I added, for good measure.

"They are welcome to try," the idiot snarled, drawing itself up taller. I snorted. It turned away from me, and to Mouse.

"So this creature is your offering, Mouse? Another plaything, as per out arrangement?" it asked, and a few things flashed through my mind. One, rage demons didn't have lackeys. No demon was lower than a rage. What could Mouse be, then? Was it a plot? Two, Mouse was betraying me? How so? This was my intention, even should he have not spoken to me. Three, another? He'd betrayed others? _Graeme,_ I thought, still not sure how he could have failed this. Perhaps one thing Mouse said was true, and he took too long, or-

I broke off that train of thought. Four, did this mean Mouse would try and fight me? Or did it usually literally stab the apprentice in the back while they fought? That would explain Graeme, if...

"I'm not offering you anything! I don't have to help you anymore!" Mouse exclaimed, removing his hands from his face. I only looked at him with suspicion. He could've said that any time. Sure, I was the best the tower had for battle magic, but that didn't make me any more capable at killing _rage_ demons. Any idiot could kill a rage demon. It took an ice spell or two and a smack with a staff.

"Aww, and after all the wonderful meals we shared? Now suddenly the mouse has changed the rules?" the demon lamented, and I almost scoffed. I don't know why I bothered keeping it in.

"I'm not a mouse, now! And soon I won't have to hide! I don't need to bargain with you!" I doubted a few things, here. One, if there were other apprentices coming here, I doubted the last ten had failed. That was what it seemed from the way they were talking.

"We shall see..." the demon drawled again, then it lunged at Mouse, who jumped back and transformed. It turned and clawing at me, but I ducked and rolled out of range, before standing and shooting an ice spell at it. It seemed to grow dimmer, and faltered, slowing down and becoming disoriented. I shot a second one, and even more so. By the third, he was cooled down enough to freeze solid for a few seconds, and I whacked him as hard as I could with the staff, which was hard, and he shattered. There were a few wraiths around, and a quick fireball directly from my hand killed each. Mouse transformed back, and wore a stunned expression. Maybe at my ease.

"You did it. You actually did it!" he exclaimed. "When you came, I hoped that maybe you might be able to... but I never really thought any of you were worthy."

_Worthy_, stuck in my mind. Not capable, not 'strong enough.' _Worthy_ to... what? Kill a rage demon? Once again, any idiot with a log... Then, I remembered something.

"An elf. Red hair, blue eyes. Male. Named Graeme. Freckles. Tell me," I growled, turning on him.

"He... I... I don't remember. They were a long time ago... I don't remember..." he stuttered. "I don't remember their names. I don't know a Graeme. It's the Fade, and the templars killing me, like they tried with you."

_A rage demon, _I thought. _It didn't even try to tempt me. I didn't even break a sweat. That's not... right. Too easy._ That was all I could think. _Too easy_. No dreaded test would be that simple. If all I had to do was kill rage, why was I still here? I should've woken up. There was more to this. _Graeme wouldn't have died for this._ "What is it you want, then?"

"You defeated a demon, you completed your test. With time, you will be a master enchanter with no equal," Mouse started. _Yes, probably_, I allowed, then realized that was rather prideful, and went around that circle of thought again. Once again, though, I thought about that idiot with a log hitting the rage demon over the head and I knew it was no feat. "And maybe there's hope in that for someone as small and as... forgotten as me, if you want to help."

_Don't help things in the Fade, as a rule_, I remembered. I tilted my head at Mouse, and said nothing.

"There may be a way for me to leave here, to get a foothold outside. You just need to want to let me in." _Woah, okay. Demon alert. _I stepped back, daring to roll my eyes. Even if he wasn't a demon, and he was genuinely a mage, which I knew he wasn't, I wouldn't do it. I didn't want some condescending idiot in the back of my mind.

"Let you in?" I asked, but it was a snarky. I was showing open disbelief at the... underestimation of my intelligence. Why was everything in the Fade as condescending as I was? Still, I could feel a pull in my chest that I'd broken immediately before, but it still didn't fade completely as long as Mouse was trying.

"Back! Help me back. They killed me, right? Just like all who fail in here. They'll kill you too. Can't you feel the sword at your neck? They believe all magic evil, the Fade evil. Once you are here, you become what they fear," Mouse started ranting. I could see a few little slips of demon showing through.

"Right. Do you expect me to think you were ever actually an apprentice?"

"What? Yes! Of course! I mean, I think I was. Isn't that enough? It should be enough! For you," Mouse rambled vehemently. The way he said _you_ was as though I was dirt. I crossed my arms, staff still in hand. Even were all of this genuine, I wouldn't do it. No condescending fools. Then, Mouse seemed to grow, and change, but he was... the same. His voice changed, at least, to that deep, demon-drawl. "Maybe they are right about you. Simple killing is a warrior's job. The real dangers of the Fade are preconceptions, careless trust... pride."

My thoughts were echoed by the demon, and it almost made me smile. I hoped I didn't need to fight the pride demon, though. I didn't realistically think I could kill a pride demon alone. A small part of me glowed, though, that I'd been strong enough to attract a pride demon. The other part of my mind shut it down. _Fool! That also means you're prideful enough to attract one. Being blinded by pride is foolish. Stop being a fool. You're a fool. Fool. Fool... Fool... _

Mouse... or Pride, I supposed, glowed blindingly again and changed back to his natural shape. It was an odd mixture of dragon and... Err... mutated Qunari. Yes, that sounded right.

"Keep your wits about you, mage. True tests never end," Pride advised, and I crossed my arms. Was it implying that it would continue to tempt me? Or just that the Fade would always be this dangerous?

I faded out of the Fade.


	2. The Start of a Bad Adventure Tale (C)

II: The Start of a Bad Adventure Tale

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So, no song this time - just too much fluff to find something that fits.

Also, I would like to note that **the farther into the story I get, the more original dialogue there will be**. I just don't want people o think I'm going to stick to the script. With the characters I don't know how to write as well, I mostly will, but with my OCs and companions, I'll be original, I promise.

I also really want to say thank you for the favourite!

I think I proofread better here.

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><p>Maerwyn I<p>

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><p>I nocked another arrow and brushed my hand across the gray feather fletching before drawing back and releasing almost immediately. To most, it looked as though I didn't aim, but I definitely did, just quickly. I'd been training with a bow since I could hold one, and I allowed myself some small pride to know that I was <em>very<em> good.

The arrow landed in the center of the rope target, next to three others I'd just placed there. I walked over to the target, whitewood shortbow in hand, and started pulling the arrows out. I placed them back in my quiver.

"My lady Cousland," an elven servant I didn't know greeted me. "The teyrn wanted to see you, my lady. In the main hall. Arl Howe has arrived."

"Thank you," I told the servant, nodding to him. I kept my bow with me as I headed to the main hall. I kept it with me most of the time, and it was rare to see me out of leather armor. I loved shooting, and I had training in dual-wielding from the master-at-arms in Highever. I used to train with the guards, sometimes. It paid off, all the time spent training; I was an amazing shot. I mostly stayed out of the politics, though Father always said I was a natural at it.

"I'll send my eldest off with my men," Father was saying, "and you and I can ride together tomorrow, just like old times."

"True," Arl Howe agreed. "Though we both had less gray in our hair then. And we fought Orlesians, not... monsters."

"At least the smell will be the same," Father joked. I continued walking up and he turned, noticing me. "I'm sorry pup; I didn't see you there. Howe, you remember my daughter?"

"I see she's become a lovely young woman. Pleased to see you again, my dear," Arl Howe greeted politely. I returned with simple courtesy, as I always did. Probably one of the reasons Father thought I was so good at politics. I just didn't like offending anyone.

"And you, Arl Howe."

"My son Thomas asked after you. Perhaps I should bring him with me next time. ," Howe hinted, just subtly enough. Thomas was a few years younger than me and rather immature. I had no interest in marrying him. If I was honest, I'd admit that I was a little attracted to men slightly older than myself. I'd never say it, though.

"Thomas is a few years younger than I am," I pointed out, little good it would do. And it didn't.

"As you get older, those years make less difference. A lesson often hard won," Howe replied.

"I doubt she'll be receptive, Howe. My fierce girl has her own mind these days, Maker bless her heart," Father said with a proud sigh. I smiled slightly to him.

"Quite talented, I'm sure. One to watch," Howe said, in a tone I didn't like.

"At any rate, pup, I summoned you for a reason. While your brother and I are both away, I'm leaving you in charge of the castle," Father informed me. I was both proud and disappointed. I'd been begging to go along to Ostagar; I wanted to fight. I could do some good with the archers. I'd like to lead one day, as in troops, in battle. I was also proud to be put in charge of the castle, which was a different form of leading, and one I'd also enjoy, were I to do it. I had... ambition. I also couldn't help but think that Mother was perfectly capable, and he was doing this to keep me from sneaking off to Ostagar anyways. But, he wouldn't have done it if he didn't think I was capable; Highever was too important to him. Either way, it worked, I admit. I would take the opportunity.

"I'll do my best, Father."

"Now, that's what I like to hear." He smiled. "Only a token force is remaining here, and you must keep peace in the region. You know what they say about mice when the cat is away, yes? Ah, there's also someone you must meet. Please... show Duncan in," he added to a guard, who nodded and headed out of the room. A few minutes later, the guard accompanied a man in steel armor and a white... skirt-thing I'd never seen anything like save for in a riding dress.

"It is an honor to be a guest within your hall, Teyrn Cousland," the man said. Howe looked startled. I didn't like it.

"Your Lordship, you didn't mention that a Grey Warden would be present." This man was a Grey Warden? Interesting. I'd learned of them, of course, but I'd never thought to meet one. Perhaps I should've expected it, with the darkspawn attacking and such.

"Duncan arrived just recently, unannounced. Is there a problem?" Apparently Father didn't expect it either. Howe shook his head.

"Of course not, but a guest of this stature demands a certain protocol. I am... at a disadvantage," Howe insisted.

"We rarely have the pleasure of seeing one in person, that's true. Pup, Brother Aldous taught you who the Grey Wardens are, I hope?" Father asked me. I frowned. Of course, you didn't hear much of them these days, and the only reason Ferelden remembers them was probably that they had only recently returned to the country, but I wasn't that ignorant.

"Of course," I replied. Father nodded to me. I wondered why he'd said it – he had to have a reason.

"Duncan Is looking for recruits before joining us and his fellow Wardens in the south. I believe he's got his eye on Ser Gilmore."

"If I might be so bold, I would suggest that your daughter is also an excellent candidate," Duncan added. I raised a studious eyebrow at him, considering that. I would consider that, definitely.

"Honor though that might be, this is my daughter we're talking about," Father said sternly, stepping slightly in front of me.

"I would consider that," I told Father, with a sideways glance at the commander.

"I've not so many children that I'll gladly see them all off to battle. Unless you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription...?"

"Have no fear. While we need as many good recruits as we can find, I've no intention of forcing the issue," Duncan agreed. Father looked at him for another moment before turning to me and stepping aside.

"Pup, can you ensure that Duncan's requests are seen to while I'm gone?"

"Of course," I told him. He nodded.

"In the meantime, find Fergus and tell him to lead the troops to Ostagar ahead of me," he ordered. I inclined my head.

"Very well. Where is he?"

"Upstairs in his chambers, no doubt, spending some last moments with his wife and my grandson. Now, be a good lass and do as I've asked. We'll talk soon." I nodded and exited the main hall, out into the open-roofed hallway. I always loved that about Highever; the sky being there if you step outside your room. I remembered slipping out the door to lay on the ground and look at the stars as a child.

"There you are!" Ser Gilmore greeted, as I rounded the next corner. "Your mother told me the teyrn had summoned you, so I didn't want to interrupt."

"What did you need?" I asked.

"I fear your hound has the kitchens in uproar once again," he sighed, gesturing in the direction of the kitchens. "Nan is threatening to leave."

"She was my nanny before she was the cook. Nan won't leave," I dismissed.

"Your mother disagrees," he said with a slight laugh. "She insists you collect the hound, and quickly. You know these mabari hounds. She'll listen to her mistress, but anyone else risks having an arm bitten off."

"To the dog, then," I said.

"That would be wise. Before Nan tears down the walls," he chuckled. "You're quite lucky to have your own mabari war hound, you know. Smart enough not to talk, my father used to say. Of course, that means she's easily bored. Nan swears she confounds her just to amuse himself. At any rate, your mother would have me accompany you until the matter is settled. Shall we?"

I nodded and gestured in the direction of the kitchens, starting to walk.

"Just follow the yelling," Ser Gilmore joked. "When Nan's unhappy, she makes sure everyone knows it." And yes, Nan was in fact yelling when we arrived.

"Get that bloody mutt out of the larder!" she was ordering two skittish elven servants.

"But, mistress! It won't let us near!" the woman protested.

"If I can't get into that larder, I'll skin both of you useless elves, I swear it!"

"Err... calm down, good woman. We've come to help," Ser Gilmore attempted mediation.

"You! And **you**! Your bloody mongrel keeps getting into my larder! That beast should be put down!" I put on a face of _righteous indignation_, otherwise known as being offended.

"She's not a mongrel! She's a pureblood mabari!"

"A blight wolf is what she is! How am I supposed to work like this?"

"Oh, dear, Mistress, calm down, please..." one of the elves said.

"That's it! I'll quit. Inform the teyrna. I'll go cook at some nice estate in the Bannorn," Nan announced.

"Nan, please! We'll get the dog. Calm down," Ser Gilmore insisted. Nan raised her arms in defeat, moving away to busy herself with something else.

"Just get her gone! I've enough to worry about with a castle full of hungry soldiers!"

We entered the larder to find her barking at a few bags of wheat, which she had obviously gotten at. I was personally confused about why she was barking at bags of wheat, but Ser Gilmore noticed the mess.

"Look at that mess," he sighed. "How did she even get in here?"

She turned, walked away from the bags and started barking excitedly at me.

"What is it, girl? Are you trying to tell me something?" She bounced in circles and barked.

"It does seem that way. Wait, do you hear that?" he asked, turning to the bags of wheat. There were huge rats crawling out into the open. Glad I had my bow, I drew it and started sinking arrows into rats. Ser Gilmore drew hit sword and knocked them to pieces, and Leanne used her teeth.

After they were all dead, Ser Gilmore looked about to laugh as he said, "Giant rats? It's like the start of every bad adventure tale my grandfather used to tell. Your hounds must have chased them in through their holes." He looked down at Leanne. "Looks like she wasn't raiding the larder after all." Leanne barked once in confirmation.

"It certainly seems that way," I agreed, reaching down to scratch absently at Leanne's ears.

"Those were rats from the Kocari Wilds. Best not to tell Nan. She's upset enough as it is." I nodded. "But seeing as you've got her well in hand, I'll be on my way. I'm to prepare for the arrival of more of the arl's men."

"There she is, as brazen as you please, licking her chops after helping herself to the roast, no doubt!" Nan scolded immediately as we exited the larder. Ser Gilmore nodded and went on his way, while I confronted Nan.

"She's not so bad, Nan. Just a dog being a dog," I insisted with a sigh.

"Look at her, now. Snuck into my larder once again and makes off like a free thief, he does."

"Mistress!" one of the elven servants exclaimed, two of them exiting the now-clear larder. "There are rats in the larder! Big ones!"

"And it looks like the dog killed them all!" the second said, taking another look inside.

"I bet that dog led those rats into there to begin with," Nan huffed. Leanne whined. "Oh, don't even start with the sad eyes! I'm immune to your so-called charms." Leanne whined louder, sitting down. Nan sighed. 'Here, then. Take these pork bits and don't say Nan never gives you anything. Bloody dog!"

I reached down and stroked the dog's ears. "Thank you, milady," Nan said. "Now we can get to work." She turned to the servants. "That's right, you two, quit standing about!"

I brought Leanne with me as I went to find Fergus. Halfway there, I ran into Mother and her guests.

"Ah, here is my lovely daughter. I take it by the presence of that troublesome hound of yours that the situation in the kitchen is handled?" Mother asked. Because it was Mother, I joked.

"Nan's head exploded and Leanne ate the kitchen staff," I deadpanned.

"Well, at least one of us will have a decent dinner," she responded in kind. Leanne barked. "Well, perhaps she left something I can feed my guests. Maerwyn, you remember Lady Landra? Bann Loren's wife?' She gestured to the woman at her left.

"Of course. It is good to see you again, my lady," I said courteously. She smiled.

"You're too kind, dear girl. Didn't I spend half the salon trying to convince you to marry my son?" Yes, yes she did. A tad drunkenly.

"And made a very poor case for it, I might add," the son in question added. Lady Landra gestured to him.

"You remember my son, Dairren? He's not married yet, either." First Howe, now Landra? I wasn't sure which I would prefer. Probably neither, just my own opinion.

"Don't listen to her," Dairren sighed. "It's good to see you again, my lady. You're looking beautiful as ever." Ah, empty flattery. The garden of nobles.

"Thank you," I said pleasantly.

"And this is my lady-in-waiting, Iona. Do say something, dear," Lady Landra gestured to a well-dressed elf. She responded courteously.

"It is a great pleasure, my lady. You are as pretty as your mother describes." All right, all right, enough of this small talk. I couldn't do small talk without a drink in hand. Mother sighed.

"You would think that would make it easier to make a match for her, not more difficult."

"Perhaps your daughter simply has a mind of your own, your Ladyship. You should be proud," Dairren suggested. I looked at him again, reconsidering. I appreciated that comment.

"Proud doesn't get me any more grandchildren," Mother said.

"Might I go now, Mother? I'm to speak with Fergus."

"Of course, darling." I nodded and departed before any more small talk could be initiated. I followed the hallway until I reached the courtyard where Fergus, Oriana, and Oren's bedroom was, across from mine.

"Is there really gonna be a war, papa? Will you bring me back a sward?" Oren was asking when I entered. The door had been open.

"That's 'sword,' Oren. I'll get you the mightiest one I can find, I promise. I'll be back before you know it,' my brother said to him, kneeling to be the same height as his young son. My sister looked anxious, and I didn't blame her. I was just pretending to be sure.

"I wish victory was indeed so certain. My heart is... disquiet."

"Don't frighten the boy, love I speak the truth," Fergus insisted, standing up. He turned to me as he heard my footsteps.

"And here's my little sister to see me off. Now, dry your eyes, love, and wish me well," Fergus said cheerfully. I felt awkward.

"Should I... wait outside?"

"Stay," Fergus said. "I'd like to say farewell." I smiled.

"I wish I could come with you," I told him wistfully.

"I wish you could come! It'll be tiring, killing all those darkspawn by myself," Fergus agreed. I smiled. This was why I loved my brother.

"In Antiva, a woman fighting in battle would be... unthinkable," Oriana said. She was from Antiva herself. Just because Antivan women didn't fight, though, didn't mean they weren't fierce. Oriana and I spent a lot of time together, and she taught me how to make poison, after all.

"Is that so?" Fergus asked, turning to his wife "I always heard Antivan women were quite dangerous."

"With kindness and poison only, my husband," she said.

"This from the woman who serves me my tea!" Fergus chucked, turning to me. I laughed, too.

"Anyways," I started. "I bring a message: Father wants you to leave without him."

"Then the arl's men _are_ delayed," Fergus sighed. "You'd think they were all walking backwards." He turned, facing his son. "Well, I'd better get underway. So many darkspawn to behead, so little time! Off we go, then. I'll see you soon, my love."

"I would hope, dear boy, that you planned to wait for us before taking your leave?" Father's voice asked, and we all turned to see him enter the room with Mother.

"Be well, my son. I will pray for your safety every day you are gone," Mother told him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Fergus will be fine," I insisted, hiding any worry.

"I keep telling you, no darkspawn will ever best me," Fergus agreed.

"Maker sustain ad preserve us all. Watch over our sons, husbands and fathers and bring them safely back to us," Oriana prayed briefly.

"And bring us some ale and wenches, while you're at it!" my brother joked. His wife looked at him and he added, "err... for the men, of course."

"Fergus," Oriana scolded. "You would say this in front of your mother?"

"What's a wench? Is that what you pull on to get the bucket out of the well?" Oren asked. It seemed Fergus might have forgotten the presence of the child. Oops. Father stepped in.

"A wench is a woman that pours the ale in a tavern, Oren. Or a woman who drinks a lot of ale."

"Bryce!" Mother scolded as well. "Maker's breath, it's like living with a pair of small boys. Thankfully, I have a daughter."

I laughed. It wasn't as though I was much better. Fergus chuckled as well.

"I'll miss you, Mother dear," he said and turned to me. "You'll take care of her, Mae, won't you?"

"Of course," I said with a laugh, knowing exactly what Mother would think of that.

"Oh, good. How thrilling to know I'm so well-taken care of." I rolled my eyes a little.

"Enough, enough," Father chuckled. "Pup, you'll want to get an early night. You've much to do tomorrow." I nodded in agreement, snapping in front of Leanne's face. She seemed like she'd fallen asleep standing up. I _was_ tired.


	3. Over and Over (A)

III: Over and Over

_It feels like every day stays the same / it's dragging me down and I can't pull away / So here I go again / Chasing you down again / Why do I do this? (Over and Over, Three Days Grace)_

**Author's Note: Yeah, so there's Moiraine/Anders.** If you go on my profile I have some information on what I plan for the series but - spoiler warning. So, just to give you some background, I had a prequel of sorts planned of Moiraine's time at the tower, but I abandonned it because it really wasn't going the way I wanted to. You can go read it if you want, but it's kind of inaccurate and please don't let it affect your opinion on this fic or those that follow. There are future plans for the Anders ship.

I also have some links to half-decent drawings of the characters at the bottom of my profile.

Also, I'm currently working on a cover for this, just trying to think of some ideas. D:

Please review! :D I LOVE feedback and people to bounce ideas off of are something I find myself needing - I actually know no Dragon Age fans so there's no one to talk to about things like Maerwyn's LI or which Inquisitor I want for my headcanon.

Moiraine II

When I next opened my eyes, it was groggily and I was looking at the bottom of the top bunk, in the bed that had once been Morgase's. I knew it from the carving in the wood, of a cat. Anders had put it there. My head was pounding, as though I was hungover, and the first think I thought was, _if I'm hung over, why am I on the right bunk? I should be in Anders' room. _I ran with the hangover idea, and continued to theorize. I could've gotten with someone other than Anders. It was likely, but I still shouldn't be in this bunk. We all gave it a wide berth, since Morgase died. I always went to the top. Amelie could've helped me back, I supposed, and I might've passed out on her. Still, she would've put me on a stranger's bed before Morgase's. Either way.

"Are you alright? Moiraine?" Amelie's voice asked me.

"Amelie?" I muttered, finally turning my head. It wasn't just Amelie I was looking at, but also a subtly worried Anders and an openly nervous Jowan. The second I said something, all Anders' nervousness was gone, and it wasn't replaced with relief, rather it was a cocky smile. Jowan was as openly relieved as he had been nervous, and Amelie just smiled. Her face was as schooled as Anders', and she showed no nerves. Oh wait – Harrowing.

"You're all right," Amelie whispered, smiling with open relief after looking around the room for templars. She saw none, I assumed, because she leaned down and hugged me forcefully. I groaned and scrunched up my face because of the headache. Amelie released me, and Anders came in next. He showed no affection; neither of us ever did. He took my head between his hands and there was glowing at the edge of my vision as the headache subsided. I sighed in relief, and Anders removed his hands slowly, letting one trail down my neck. I paid no notice to the attention, it was a common thing. I sat up on the bunk and swung my legs over. I stood up cheerfully, though it was false. Everyone else's was probably bittersweet, as well. We were thinking of Graeme, and his failed Harrowing.

"Thank you," I smiled at Anders. Amelie spoke, and I turned my gaze to her.

"I'm so glad you're all right. I didn't even realize you'd been gone," Amelie admitted, looking bashful. I smiled at her, and was about to say something. Then Jowan looked me in the eye and asked the question I'd dreaded.

"What was it like?" He was looking at me, and I so wanted to tell him every detail, so I closed my eyes and flinched before giving the same answer Anders had given us.

"I can't tell you," I said hurriedly, with a flinch. Anders had said he didn't dare tell any of us what it was like because if a templar found out we'd had preparation, we would've been put through the Rite. He was right. If they were told the mouse was a demon, it would all be ineffective... I hated the way I'd thought of it, as though the test deserved to be effective, but I dismissed it. Jowan made a resigned noise. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but held off.

"The First Enchanter will want to see you," Anders told me. "I'm going to meet Karl, though." He smiled at me, a genuine one, which was rare for either of us. Then, he hugged me and muttered in my ear, "You get a bed all to yourself now. Can't let you be all alone up there. Might get cold; we couldn't have that."

I almost replied with "I didn't get cold down here," but I knew that wasn't the intent, and I didn't want to ruin it. Instead, I settled for "can't have that," and he left. That was the way of things; he'd flirt with me, then go see another lover, before meeting me in the evening. I pretended the bitter, pained twinge in my stomach didn't exist, and I turned to Jowan and Amelie.

"I'll go now," I told them, a small, fake smile on my face. Not that a fake smile was out of place. Then I turned to leave, but I noticed something on Amelie's shoulder. A bruise. I dropped the false smile, and turned back to her. "Walk with me." She nodded and told Jowan she'd meet him in the library. The elf was fond of Jowan; I wasn't, so much, but he was part of our little group and that meant I looked out for him. Not too openly, of course. That turned out badly for Graeme and Morgase. We mostly pretended we didn't really care about each other in public, and tended out bruises in private. Or Anders and I got bruises, anyway; Amelie and Jowan mostly stayed out of the way. They were close, the way Anders, Morgase, Graeme and I had been, and now Amelie and I were pretty close, but Jowan was always a little on the outside and overshadowed. I felt sort of bad for him. I mean, the rest of us were rather talented in our fields; I was the best Primal mage in years; Amelie was just barely behind me; Anders was the best healer in the Tower, equal to Wynne; Graeme had been high in the Entropy school; and Morgase was second only to Rea in Spirit. Rather, Rea was a full mage now, same and Anders and I, so Morgase would've been top of the apprentices. No, she would've done her Harrowing by now... I broke off the train of thought, turning back to my... friend.

"Was it a templar?" I breathed. The elf nodded after a few seconds. I frowned. "Do you know who?"

"No," she answered softly. I nodded in understanding. Assbucket was wearing his helm.

"You should have Anders heal you, Amelie," I told her firmly. Anders often healed us up after someone got in a templar's way.

"I will," she agreed after a few seconds. "Really, it wasn't bad this time. It was only a punch, not more. I fell over, and he kept walking. Nothing like the attention you get, I just got in the way of a mean one."

"Okay," I sighed with relief. A punch was nothing; everyone got punches. Rape and beating were reserved for special people like Anders and I. _And Morgase, apparently, _a voice said, and I slammed a door on its face. I shook my head. "I need to go to Irving's office."

Amelie nodded and split off from me, but I kept walking, heading for the second floor. I walked through, past the stock room. I shivered mentally at the sight of the Tranquil caring for it. It sickened me, but I'd long since stopped shivering or openly showing disgust. I walked through the library, and then my honest curiosity was piqued. The one, _one_, advantage to the Circle was the books. The mountains of books, and here was an unconquered mountain I needed to set about conquering.

I moved past it, to the left and down the hall. I walked slowly, and as I went past, this simpering fool of a templar named Cullen greeted me.

"Oh, um... h-hello. I... uh, am glad to see your Harrowing went smoothly," he stuttered. I decided after a moment of contemplation to snap at the fool rather than holding it in. I didn't trust templars, period, but this one I trusted not to hurt me or sic someone else on me – too dumb.

"You care why?"

"I... uh, I'm just glad you're all right. You know," he stuttered again, looking even more the fool. I rolled my eyes.

"Here I was thinking templars _like_ it when we fail," I drawled.

"Maybe some, but not me. It's my duty to hunt down apostate mages, but I do so with a heavy heart," he said, earnestly. _A heavy heart_, I mocked inwardly. Daft idiot. I raged inwardly, and turned and walked away without a word. I knew the idiot had eyes for me, but I had standards for my flings; attractive, non-fool, non-assbucket. Well, I reached the First Enchanter's office, and the door was open, so I entered.

"Ah! Our new sister in the circle. Come, child," he greeted, getting up from his desk. I'd long since stopped getting angry over the use of 'child,' but Irving himself still irked me. Hypocrite. People who can be content here just confuse me. "Your phylactery had been sent to Denerim, child. You are officially a mage within the Circle of Magi, now. Congratulations."

"Oh, fantastic," I drawled quietly. I'd never understood why they moved the _mages_ phylacteries out of their reach, to Denerim, rather than the apprentices'. Weren't full mages the ones who were supposed to be trusted? Rather than having the apprentices' phylacteries in their reach, why not the mages'? I dismissed that.

"Now, child. It's not that bad," he sighed. I said nothing. "Either way, I present you with your robes, your staff, and a ring bearing the insignia of the Circle. Wear them proudly, for you have earned them."

_Proudly,_ I almost snarled. _Here you are. Wear the symbols of your captivity with pride. You earned them, not that you wanted to. _"What now?" I settled on.

"Patience, child," I chastised, and I said nothing. "Say nothing of the Harrowing to those who have not undergone the rite." He clapped his hands together, returning to his desk. "Now, take the day for rest, or whatever else you would spend it doing. It is yours."

I nodded, turning away and exiting the study without another word. I hated Irving; he just let everything pass without doing _anything_. He was a hypocrite. I figured the templars wouldn't allow a mage of any other sort to be First Enchanter, though.

I turned and headed to the library, planning to read until evening, and Anders. I could've found someone else to spend the afternoon with, but I'd found myself doing that less often of late; I refused to acknowledge growing feelings for Anders as the reason why. I still did it, of course. Everyone save a few did.

That wait was definitely worth it.

The next morning, though he was gone. That wasn't a totally uncommon occurrence, for him not to stay overnight after, but this time I mean _gone_, as in he ran again. The sixth time.

I pretended it didn't hurt whenever he left, told myself I shouldn't be so foolish, that he had no obligation to stay. He even kept other lovers. Not that I did, anymore. He probably thought I did.

I didn't cry. _This time,_ a bitter voice added. _Yet._ Sometimes it was easy to pretend I didn't care, but the truth was that it's _Anders_, and I'd never say no. It was a terrible truth, to be honest. He was there one minute and the next gone from the Tower, leaving me with my anger and an empty bed. Then he'd be back and a minute of hateful staring later and we'd be back to the way things were before. It was... the way of things.

Irving had said the day was my own, but a week passed without any new duties or responsibilities. It was not an uneventful week, however. The day after my Harrowing announced news of a potential Blight in the south, and aid was requested. They wanted mages for the King's army.

Immediately, I went around and talked to everyone, getting every drop of news. I learned just yesterday morning that Irving was putting together a group to go to Ostagar, and join the King's army. I was just bouncing on the edge of my feet, restless to go up to Irving's office and try to beg on.

This was all delayed, however, by Amelie's Harrowing. Jowan and I were hovering over her, asleep on her bed. She rolled over and moaned something about demons, before opening her eyes and squinting at us. I chuckled. I saw a blue glow cover her head before she sat up, having healed her own headache, something I wasn't capable of. I couldn't heal a scratch.

Okay, maybe a scratch. But if I were to heal a paper cut, there'd be a scar.

I hugged her and told her how happy I was she was alive, a perfect mask on my face, and though I _was_ thrilled to see her make it out alive, begging on to going to Ostagar was at the front of my mind.

Amelie and Jowan spoke for a moment, then I announced that Irving wanted to see Amelie. I told her I'd come, as I wanted to see Irving as well, and we set off. I led the way, naturally taking the lead between Amelie and I. She was always a little bit submissive, that it, unless her anger was sparked. When we arrived at Irving's study, we walked in on an argument between Greagoir and Irving. There was an outsider standing next to them, piquing my curiosity. He must have arrived this morning, or I would've heard of it.

"...many have already gone to Ostagar; Wynne, Uldred, most of the senior mages! We've committed enough of our own to this war effort." My stomach dropped into my feet.

"Your own? Since when have you felt such kinship with the mages, Greagoir? Or are you afraid to let the mages out from under Chantry supervision, where they can actually use their Maker-given powers?" Irving cut him off, and I swear I actually gaped. Perhaps I should rethink my opinion of him. Amelie went to interrupt, but I put an arm out to tell her to stay quiet; I wanted to listen. If they didn't know we were there, all the better.

"How dare you suggest..." Greagoir said, but the other man interrupted.

"Gentlemen, please. Irving, someone is here to see you."

"Damn," I said quietly to myself and Amelie, perfectly aware I'd said it. Greagoir's stare turned on me. There was silence, so I spoke up again, louder.

"Hello there," I said, raising one arm in an awkward wave.

"Ah, if it isn't our new sister in the Circle. Come, child," Irving said to Amelie, who approached him. Then, he looked at me. "Amell. I did not send for you?" It was a question.

"This is she..." the stranger trailed off, looking at Amelie. She looked uncomfortable, but I simply stood there looking at them.

"Yes, this is she," Irving replied. "And the other one, as well." I had no idea what they were talking about, but I wanted to know.

"Well, Irving, you're obviously busy. We will discuss this later," Greagoir excused himself.

"Of course. Well, then. Where was I? Oh, yes. This is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens," Irving continued. My face didn't change, nor did Amelie's but we both looked from one to the other, then at each other. There were wordless exclamations of surprise, then we both turned to look at Irving. Amelie's mouth worked. I wasn't sure what to say either. 'Pleased to meet you. What brings you to this Maker-forsaken place?'?

"Pleased to meet you. What brings you to..." I trailed off realizing what I was about to say, then I laughed and finished. "...this Maker-forsaken place?"

"Grey Wardens go where their duty takes them," he answered simply. Wow, a talent for bullshit answers.

"You've heard of the war brewing in the south, I expect? Duncan is recruiting mages to join the King's army at Ostagar."

"I know," I told him. "It's why I came up here with Amelie, really. I want to go to Ostagar."

"With the darkspawn invading, we need all the help we can get, especially from the Circle," Duncan inserted.

"I... yes. Did you say Uldred and the others have already left?" I asked, nervous. He did.

"You heard that, did you? Well, yes. Last night, they set out for Ostagar."

"I was hoping to join them," I admitted. He nodded.

"I know, child," was all he said. This angered me. Did I say something about rethinking my opinion? I take it back.

"We need all the help we can have," Duncan repeated. I was pretty sure he wanted Irving to send me, and glances at Amelie told me he'd have liked her as well. "I fear if we do not push the darkspawn back, we may see another Blight."

I'd heard this, but Amelie had not, apparently. Irving brushed Duncan off.

"Duncan, you'll worry poor Amelie," Irving chided. "This is a happy day for her. I doubt anything worries Miss Amell, though," this he said indulgently. I couldn't tell if he was joking or being condescending, so I ignored it.

"We live in troubled times, my friend," Duncan said, though his eyes lingered on me. Probably my apparent inability to be worried.

"We should seize moments of levity, especially in troubled times," Irving counselled. Amelie looked distinctly uncomfortable. I refrained from making a smart comment on exactly how cheerful a Harrowing was, and how he might be too old to remember his. Irving turned to Amelie. "The Harrowing is behind you. Your phylactery has been sent to Denerim. You are officially a mage within the Circle of Magi." It was similar to what he'd said to me. I supposed it was routine.

"That's all, then? After..." Amelie asked, quietly. She was always quiet around authority figures, but she was rather outspoken in private.

"We've all been through it, child," Irving said.

"I'm sorry, what is this phylactery?" Duncan asked, and Irving opened his mouth to answer, but I snapped a reply before he could.

"Our Chantry leash." Irving gave me a look, as did Duncan. Duncan's was less readable than Irving's.

"Blood is taken from all apprentices, when they first come to the tower, and is preserved in special vials," Irving answered.

"So they can be hunted if they turn apostate," Duncan finished.

"_Leash_," I muttered in agreement.

"We have few choices... The gift of magic is looked upon with suspicion and fear. We must prove we are strong enough to handle our power responsibly."

"_Must we_?" I mocked harshly. He ignored me. He often did, when I said things of this sort.

"You have done this. I present you with your robes, your staff, and a ring bearing the Circle's insignia. Wear them proudly, for you have earned them," Irving said, past me to Amelie. The same words I'd been given, that made me want to snap at him about things you should be proud of. Again.

"So... what happens now?" Amelie asked, the same as I'd done. She got much the same answer as well.

"Patience, child. You've been through an ordeal. Let us not rush things. Now, it goes without saying that you shall not discuss the Harrowing with those who have not undergone the rite." Amelie nodded.

"Now, then. Take your time to rest, or study in the library. The day is yours," Irving told Amelie. Apparently, my days were still mine. He had more important things to do, I was sure. Or perhaps he knew I'd been tearing through the second floor library and preferred I did reading rather than go back to giving smart mouthed comments to enchanters and assbuckets?

"I will do that," Amelie told him. Then she paused and asked the question I didn't bother with, knowing the answer. "Can I leave? The tower, that is."

"Not yet. Remember, the tower's walls protect us as much as they protect others from us," Irving lectured. Yeah, right.

"I will return to my quarters," Duncan announced. Irving nodded.

"Would you be so kind as to escort Duncan back to his room?" Irving asked both of us. I just nodded, holding back a comment about the layout of the circle not being so complicated.

"Of course," Amelie said. Irving spat out some directions I already knew. Amelie might not, but when you plot escape attempts, you learn the layout. He went to leave to talk with the Bucket-Commander of Asses. Or was it Ass-Commander of Buckets? Hm. Let's go with the first one. It was what Morgase called him. Or rather, his predecessor. I ran with it.

"First Enchanter," I said the title reluctantly, disliking authority over me. He did stop and look at me, though. I asked my question directly this time. "Might I go to Ostagar?"

"Child, if I were to send you to Ostagar, can you honestly tell me you'll return?" he asked me. The lies formed on my tongue, but they were useless. I could lie to anyone, even Irving, I thought, but here, lies wouldn't serve. He already knew my honest answer, so a lie would do no good. I said nothing, and Irving turned and left.

Amelie led the way out of the study, and the second she was out the door, I heard Jowan call her over. When Duncan exited next, whatever he'd been about to ask died on his tongue, and he spluttered a little.

"Just go, Amelie. I'll... walk," I told her and gave her a nudge with a sigh. Amelie looked at Duncan, then me. Jowan looked nervous. She apologized of some sort of nonsense and hurried off. A few steps went by without a word, then Duncan addressed me.

"Thank you for walking with me. I am glad for the company," he told me. I answered honestly.

"I... wanted to talk to you a little more."

"Yes? What about?" he asked. I wasn't nervous, but I was treading carefully. For some reason, his opinion mattered. That was rare.

"Why were Irving and Greagoir arguing?" I asked.

"It is not my place to comment," he replied simply, and I sighed.

"Very well, then." I'd find out later. I moved on to my next topic of interest: the Wardens. I'd looked for every possible way out of the tower. That was on the list. "You can tell me about the Grey Wardens, then, can't you?" He nodded and started talking.

"Our duty is to battle darkspawn wherever they appear. We are elves, humans and dwarves united by this common purpose," he started. It was a good purpose, I admitted, having read about past Blights. That led me to me next question.

"Have there been many darkspawn attacks?"

"A horde has formed within the Kocarri Wilds in the south. If they are not stopped, they will strike north into the valley. We Grey Wardens believe that an archdemon is leading this horde," he answered directly, at least. And either honestly or obviously deflected, so you knew he was deflecting it. I could respect that, at least.

"So it is a Blight," I muttered. "The king is building an army, then?"

"Yes," he answered. "Perhaps it will be enough... if we play our cards right."

I just nodded. A few minutes later, we reached the guest chambers, and he thanked me. When I hesitated to leave, he asked if there was anything else.

"How many mages have gone to Ostagar?"

"The circle sent only _seven_ mages to Ostagar," he answered sounding slightly contemptuous. "I asked King Cailan permission to come and seek a greater commitment from the Circle."

"Seven is probably the most they'll send you," I admitted.

"I had hoped to place a mage or two within every contingent. I cannot do it with only seven. Mages will make all the difference in this battle. The darkspawn have their own mages, and our resources but exceed theirs.

"I wish I could join the army," I sighed. "But you knew that."

"I sometimes wonder if the Chantry's many laws regarding mages are necessary. Darkspawn are a greater threat than blood mages, even abominations. It takes decades for the world to recover from a Blight," Duncan ranted. "I wish the Chantry could see that. We must stop at nothing to defeat the darkspawn... Ah, listen to me. An old man's rantings can't be very interesting."

"You should hear mine," I joked lightly, though the intent was serious. "They _are_ worse." I shrugged. "It was interesting, actually. I should go, though."

"Do not let me keep you," Duncan nodded to me. I nodded back, and left, muttering.

"Need to find a new way out..." I started muttering, probably loud enough for Duncan to hear. I didn't really care. Maybe he'd take pity on me, drag me off to the Wardens. When I exited the room, I was shocked to see Jowan waiting for me.

"I'm glad I caught up with you," Jowan said, seemingly just having arrived. "Are you finished with the Grey Warden?"

"For now," I agreed. "Did you need something?"

"I need to talk with you," he said. "Do you remember what we discussed this morning?"

I frowned, not honestly remembering. I'd zoned out most of that conversation, thinking about fighting the war. I settled on a different topic, brushing off the question.

"Don't whisper. It looks suspisious."

"I just don't want anyone to overhear. We should go somewhere else. I don't feel safe talking here," he said. I frowned.

"You seem just a little bit on edge," I understated.

"I've been... troubled. I'll explain. Come with me, please," he told me, and turned. I followed him, but he said nothing else. _Really, Jowan, you need to work on your subtlety._ To my shock, he led me into the Chantry. I actually paused at the door and gave him a look. He seemed exasperated, and pulled me in by the arm. I let him, of course, he couldn't pull me if I didn't want him to.

"We should be safe here," he told me as he walked over to a priest, standing at the edge of the room.

"Um, Jowan? Are you seeing the invisible priest, too?" I asked hesitantly, not taking my eyes off of her. I hated priests.

"Not a priest. I am merely an initiate." She'd ignored the invisible bit. I mean, really? I thought that was rather good.

"Jowan..." I trailed off the question. "What in the Black damned City is going on here?" The initiate looked mildly scandalized by my choice of words. It'd been for her benefit, of course.

"A few months ago, I told you I'd met a girl. This is her... this is Lily," Jowan announced.

"You brought me here to introduce me to your lover? Why not Amelie? You're closer to her than me," I pointed out.

"It's... complicated. I'll explain," he told me. I gave him a look.

"Alright... Well, besides that... an initiate, Jowan?"

"So you can see why we wish to keep it a secret," Lily said. I gave _her_ a look. What was it with these people and deserving my looks?

"Lily's been given to the Chantry. She is not allowed to have... relations with men. If anyone finds out... we'll both be in trouble." Ah, Jowan, still the blushing maid. How, in this tower, I'm not sure. He must've walked in on countless... _relations_, to use his words. Mine included. He and Amelie, though... ever the innocents. Well, Amelie was somehow both cynical and innocent. I still wasn't sure how she managed that.

"I disapprove. But I won't tell anyone. You can't have brought me here to talk about your affair?"

"I wish I had," Jowan said. "Remember I said I didn't think they wanted to give me my Harrowing? I know why. They're... going to make me Tranquil." My eyes widened slightly, which was a jaw drop in my facial language. "They'll take everything from me! My dreams, hopes, fears... my love for Lily... All gone..." He and the initiate explained briefly about a rumor that Jowan was a blood mage, and some forms she'd seen on Greagoir's desk.

"Time to run," I announced. "This is why you brought me, and not Amelie."

"I need to destroy my phylactery. Without it, they can't track me down."

"What do you need me to do, then? You have a plan? Make it quick, now," I told him, leaning against the wall.

"I can get us in to the repository, but there is a problem," Lily said. _There's always a problem._ She proceeded to explain about these doors, and how to get past them. Jowan then went on about a rod of fire, and how it might be able to melt the lock. He said he needed a full mage to get one. I sighed, seeing what they were asking. It was as good a plan as any, I supposed.

"I'll get it, then. Be back soon," I agreed, heading for the exit hurriedly. If anyone saw me there, they'd immediately question it. Near the door, there was an apprentice kneeling and praying hurriedly. I paused to look at her. She must've been new, I'd never seen her, and that's what gave me pause.

"I... what are you doing?" I asked her. She seemed almost to be curled in a ball and praying hurriedly. She told me she was _reciting the Maker's blessings_, and asked me to join her.

"I... think not."

"I recite the Maker's blessings every day. It brings me peace in troubled times," she gushed, smiling. I couldn't help it.

"Speaking words brings you peace?" I asked scathingly. She wasn't fazed.

"It gives me hope that one day the Maker will hear us. That maybe I'll be forgiven, and my curse will be lifted."

"Ah... Curse of... what? Not boils, I see," I questioned, genuinely unsure of what she meant.

"The curse of magic. What else?" she said, as though it was obvious.

"Fool. Magic is a gift," I snapped. She then went on about how horrid and vile magic was, and how the Chantry must protect us all. She finished by saying that she wished she could be rid of it.

"Only a fool would not appreciate this," I insisted, barely able to refrain from saying anything more cutting to the idiot. I rolled my eyes. "I don't have time for foolishness." I turned and left the Chantry.

The stockroom was on the second floor, and it didn't take long to get there. I realized I'd need to talk to a Tranquil, probably Owain. That made me anxious; I went between wanting to vomit and having this odd desire to slit their throats and put them out of their misery. Owain greeted with his usual like.

"I need a rod of fire," I told him simple. Straightforward was better; even if I tried skirting around it, he wouldn't notice.

"Rods of fire serve many purposes. Why do you wish to acquire this particular item?" he asked, and I realized I probably should've had a lie ready. It didn't matter, I was good with lies. I made up some bullshit about losing the key to a metal chest and hoping to melt it open. He barely noticed my engineered story and put it down as 'personal matters.' I was disappointed. Also, I needed a form signed by a Senior Enchanter. I took it, telling him I'd be back. I walked back into the library and looked around.

I decided to approach old Sweeny. He seemed to be going blind, maybe senile, so he shouldn't remember, and I could tell him he was signing just about anything. I walked over to him, and he seemed not to know me. I was unsurprised; I'd barely met him. He was Morgase's mentor.

"Could you sign this form for me?" I asked simply. I passed him the sheet.

"What's this? A request for... a rod of fire? I remember when the junior mages I mentored asked for some of those. Turns out they were burning holes in each other's trousers. One boy burned peepholes into the female apprentices' dormitory," he laughed. I liked him immediately; he had a sense of humor. I ran with that. After a bit of talking, a joking, he agreed to sign it and asked me to burn the seat of the templar patrolling the library who kept giving him "stink-eye." I accepted the condition readily, deciding that if Jowan got out of this, I'd still have the rod and I would do just that. Sounded like a challenge.


	4. Tumbling Down (C)

IV: Tumbling Down

**Author's Note: **So, this chapter is a bit short. I find Maerwyn harder to write than Moiraine (she just writes herself, really). I've also noticed that I'm currently writing the end of chapter seven and I've realized that I still haven't gotten to the actual battle. Or joining. So, I'm going to start speeding things up a bit. Meaning, after chapter seven I'm going to start jumping into things a bit faster. With the origin stories, I wanted to focus a bit to introduce the characters more. Anyway.

Also, I've been posting daily and that will stop when I reach chapter seven - eight or so, it should be about weekly.

_And the walls kept __**tumbling down**__ / in the city that we love / great clouds roll over the hills / bringing darkness from above / but if you close your eyes / does it almost feel like / nothing changed at all (Pompeii, Bastille)_

Maerwyn II

Sadly, my sleep was interrupted a few hours after dark, when Leanne jumped off the bed and started growling at the door. I jumped up and rolled off the bed in surprise. I didn't like the look of it; Leanne had never woken me in the night before. I snatched my bow off the table and threw my quiver over my shoulder. I didn't put any more than the smallclothes I wore at the moment on, however.

"What's wrong, Leanne? Someone out there?" I asked, nocking an arrow, just in case of trouble. I didn't like this. Leanne was always right about these things. For example, the rats.

She barked again as a human servant burst through the door.

"My lady Help me! The castle is under attack!" he exclaimed, then an arrow pierces his back, and he fell, dead. I drew back and shot the man in armor behind him in the face before he could do anything else. Another turned the corner and made to enter my room, and I shot him, too. I exited the room, not caring about modesty, and shot the other felled the other two guards before they could reach me.

"Darling!" I heard Mother call, and I turned in relief. "I heard fighting outside, and I feared the worst! Are you hurt?" She, too was armed with bow and quiver, and was wearing heavier leather armor than I wore normally.

"Not a scratch," I told her honestly. "Are you? What's going on?"

"A scream woke me up. There were men in the hall, so I barred the door," she told me. That must've been when she had the chance to put armor on. "Did you see their shields? Those are Howe's men! Why would they attack us?"

"We need to get out of here, Mother. There are too many of them, with our troops away," I said. "He planned this. Why, I don't know."

"Have you seen your father? He never came to bed!" My jaw dropped. He must've been with Howe himself, you'd think.

"Maybe he stayed up with Howe."

"We must find him!"

"Yes. Let's check on Oriana and Oren, as well, and then I must put my armor on. It seems the battle is downstairs."

"Andraste's mercy. What is the soldiers when into your brother's room first?" She spun and we hurried across the hall. The door was open, and on the floor, mother and son lied dead. Mother dropped to her knees.

"No! My little Oren! What manner of fiend slaughters innocents?" I only stared. We needed to find Father. I couldn't lose him, too. "Howe is not even taking hostages! He means to kill all of us!"

"Oh, Fergus. Let's go, I don't want to see this," Mother said, standing up and hurrying, we left the room. I shot one glance over my shoulder to those I knew, who I'd seen a few hours before, alive and joking. Oren asking for a sword...

I took a few minutes to put on my armor and properly put on my quiver, and everything else before we left, heading downstairs. Leanne ran up close, taking down Howe's archers, while Mother and I killed the soldiers with our arrows.

"Can you hear the fighting? Howe's men must be everywhere," Mother said as we turned the corner, heading for the main hall.

"How can we get out of the castle?" I asked, needing a plan of sorts.

"The servants' passage leads out from the larder... but we must find your father, first. The front gates," she decided, "that's where your father must be!"

"Let's go, then," I said, leaving the question unspoken. What if he wasn't?

We continued down the hallway, killing men as we went. We saw one servant announce the castle had fallen, and about his intentions to run. He fell, too. We did stop by the family vault, briefly, to grab our family's things. Mother wanted to, as she didn't want Howe's grubby hands on them. I agreed, and we moved quickly. I hadn't wanted to waste any time finding Father, but at least it only took a second. As neither of us used a sword and shield, the weapons themselves just hung at my back, adding extra weight. I was unsure what to do with them.

When we reached the main hall, we found Ser Gilmore leading a group of the remaining men again Howe soldiers. Mother and I didn't question as we threw ourselves into the fight, shooting arrows until they were all dead. When it was over, Ser Gilmore turned to us, after having the remaining men man the gate.

"Your Ladyship! My lady! You're both alive! I was certain Howe's men had gotten through!"

"They did," I told him. "Have you seen my father?"

"He was looking for you two. He told us to hold the hall as long as possible. When I realized what was happening, it was all I could do to shut the gates. But they won't keep Howe's men out long! If you've another way out of the castle, use it quickly." I nodded, turning to Mother.

"We need to find Father."

"When I last saw him, he'd been badly wounded. I urged him not to go, but he was determined to find you. He went towards the kitchens. I believe he thought to find you at the servant's exit in the larder."

"Bless you, Ser Gilmore. Maker watch over you!" Mother told him, taking my arm and pulling my through the door opposite the one we came in through. We hurried to the larder, not fighting too many men. Leanne took point.

There were bodies on the floor in the kitchen. _Oh, Nan_, I thought, noticing her among them. We moved past, into the larder.

"There... you both are. I was... wondering when you would get here," Father said, or struggled to say. He had a stab wound in the abdomen, and was lying on the ground, injured. By he was alive. Mother and I both ran across the room to him.

"Bryce! Maker's blood, what's happening? You're bleeding!"

"Howe's men... found me first. Almost... did me in right there."

"We need to get you out of here. Now," I said urgently, moving to try and help Father stand.

"I... I won't survive the standing, I think," he muttered, looking at me. I stopped, kneeling.

"No, no, that's not true! You'll be fine!" I insisted, trying to convince myself, I was sure. There was so much death, too much death, everyone I'd ever known. Everything, everone was dying, not him too. They were all dead, dead, dead, dead, _dead, dead, dead, dead—_

"Ah, my darling girl... if only will would make it so." He smiled and laughed a pained little laugh.

"Once Howe's men break through the gate, they will find us! We must go!" Mother insisted. I agreed.

"Someone... must reach Fergus... tell him what has happened," Father said. I shook my head.

"No, no, Father, you can tell him yourself. Come with us, come on, Father..." I pleaded, tears in my eyes, at long last.

"I... wish I could," he groaned. A few tears fell.

"Bryce, no! The servants' passage is right here! We can flee together, find you healing magic!" Mother begged. I nodded hurriedly.

"The castle is surrounded... I cannot make it," Father disagreed. I shook my head, tears falling from my chin and pooling with the blood that was all over the floor.

"I'm afraid the teyrn is correct," a new voice interrupted. Duncan, the Grey Warden. "Howe's men have no yet discovered this exit, but they surround the castle. Getting past will be difficult."

"You are... Duncan, then? The Grey Warden?" Mother asked. He kneeled on one knee.

"Yes, your Ladyship. The teyrn and I tried to reach you sooner." I simply kneeled and cried noiselessly.

"My daughter helped me get here, Maker be praised," Mother added. I would've felt pride had the circumstances been different. Duncan looked at me thoughtfully.

"I am not surprised," was all he said. I cried, still.

"Whatever is to be done now, it must be quick! They are coming!" Mother exclaimed. I nodded, salty tears filling my mouth, and I choked slightly.

"Duncan..." Father pleaded. "I beg you... take my wife and daughter to safety."

"I will, your Lordship. But... I fear I must ask for something in return." I looked at him curiously, feeling a twinge of anger. Ask something in return for what any decent person might do?

"Anything," Father said earnestly. I knew he meant it. We were worth anything to him.

"What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil now loose in this world," Duncan started. I grew angrier. Angry at him, and his dismissal of the death of _everyone I love_, angry at Howe, for taking everything away. "I came to your castle seeking a recruit. The darkspawn threat demands that I leave with one." Father looked at me sadly for a moment.

"I... I understand." _Me?_ He wanted to recruit me in exchange for saving my life? What kind of person asks for someone's life in exchange for their life? What if Fergus was dead? What if Howe had something planned for him too? If Father was dying, and Fergus was dead, I'd have to be Teyrna. It would be my duty, and I would do it. Sure, I'd said I might consider doing it, earlier, but this wasn't a choice I was being given!

"What if Fergus is dead? Howe will have planned for him as well."

"The king will see justice done," Duncan responded. My anger flared. "The Grey Wardens, however, must face the darkspawn above all else."

"He is... right, pup," Father said.

"I will take the teyrna and your daughter to Ostagar, to tell Fergus and the king what has happened. Then, your daughter joins the Grey Wardens."

"So long as justice comes to Howe... I agree." My anger flared up again. What if _I_ didn't agree? They misunderstood my question. What if Fergus was dead? I had a duty to the teyrnir.

"Then I offer you a place within the Grey Wardens. Fight with us," Duncan said, turning to me. Oh, good, some acknowledgement.

"But _what if Fergus is dead_?" I repeated.

"We will inform the king, and he will punish Howe. I am sorry, but a Grey Warden's duties take precedence even over vengeance," Duncan said, as though hating to have to repeat himself. I did not want to go to the Grey Wardens right now.

"That is not what I mean. I mean _what if I need to become the teyrna!_" I snapped.

"Grey Wardens give up all former titles," Duncan said, his face stony. "I am sorry."

"Fine," I snapped. I didn't really see it as agreement, I just needed to get my mother out of there. "We don't have time for this."

"Yes, we must leave quickly," Duncan said. _No, I thought we could all waltz out_! I normally didn't have a penchant for sarcasm, and I wasn't sure why it was coming out now.

"Bryce, are you... sure?" Mother asked him, taking his hand.

"Our daughter will not die of Howe's treachery. She will live, and make her mark on the world," Father insisted, giving me a proud look. Mother turned to me.

"Darling, go with Duncan. You have a better chance to escape without me," she said. I frowned.

"Eleanor," Father interrupted.

"Hush, Bryce. I'll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy them time. But I won't abandon you." _I'll miss you, Mother dear. You'll take care of her, Mae, won't you? _Fergus' voice told me from one corner of my brain. Tears of anger started falling.

"_No_, no, no, don't, Mother! I won't let you," I sobbed.

"My place is with your father. At his side, to death, and beyond."

"_No_, Mother. Don't make me... don't... please..." I cried, not even bothering to wipe me tears.

"I'm... so sorry it's come to this, my love," Father said to my mother. She leaned over him.

"We had a good life and did all we could. It's up to our children, now," Mother said, and looked at me. My face was red with anger and grief.

"Then... go, pup. Warn your brother. And know that we love you both. You do us proud," Father said. My tears fell harder, unable to stop them. Suddenly, we all heard a crash, and the sounds of battle once more. Duncan grabbed my arm and pulled me to the exit.

"No!" I cried, not having the strength to fight. I shouted I love you to my parents as I was yanked down the path, and into the darkness.


	5. Life Starts Now (A)

**V: Life Starts Now**

_Cause life starts now / you've done all the things / that could kill you somehow / and you're so far down / But you'll survive this somehow because / Life starts now_

_I hate to see you fall down / I'll pick you up off the ground / I've watched the weight of your world come down / and now it's your chance to move on / change the way you've lived for so long / find the strength you've had inside all along (Life Starts Now, Three Days Grace)_

**Author's Note: **Thanks SO MUCH for the follow! :D

I'm going to update the summary in a bit, and I'm working on a cover picture right now.

**Moiraine III**

"I hate waiting," Jowan was saying. "It makes me nervous."

"I have it," I announced, turning the corner to where they stood. Jowan looked surprised.

"That was quick!"

"To the repository, then," Lily inserted. I glanced at her disdainfully.

"Right," I agreed, and we turned to leave the Chantry.

As we walked, the three of us were dominated by an awkward silence. Jowan was about to leave the Circle forever, one way, or another. It was strange to think of. Anders would run, I would run, but we all knew they'd catch up with us, and we'd just spend time in solitary.

_Solitary_, I thought, with a shiver. Being alone for so long wasn't the worst part. Sure, it got to you, but being alone, you could deal with. The worst part was the templar guards. You'd have good shifts and bad shifts. Most, they would guard. Some, they'd beat you. Once, they raped me. It didn't matter. No one but the guards saw you when you were in solitary, and though there were decent guards, when Alabar was Knight-Commander, everyone knew not to ask. Or interfere. Greagoir had been Knight-Commander for about two years now, and things were better, but not good enough. It was still brutal, there were still beatings, and still rapes, once in a while. Especially for lucky me and Amelie. Everyone knew we'd been Morgase's friend, and after the way Alabar died, the templars hated us in particular.

Usually, it would be no more than a punch in the hallway when no one's around by an overly vengeful templar, or an extreme punishment if you're caught doing something like drinking. If we did something that was _very_ against the rules, say escaping, we'd get worse. Anders had the same problem, not that he and I didn't get targeted enough for our smart mouths. Jowan faded into the background enough to be ignored. Sometimes I thought that was good, sometimes not so much.

It was odd, the way our little band seemed to be fading out. Graeme and Morgase didn't meet very happy endings, and I hoped that at least the rest of us might. Anders had run; maybe they wouldn't catch him this time. Jowan was running; maybe we'd succeed in breaking his phylactery. Amelie and I could try harder to get on the war effort. I'd been meaning to plan a new way, but Jowan interrupted that.

That was optimism speaking, though. Anders would be back in a few weeks, and the damned Maker only knows how Jowan and Lily will end up. I won't be signed on to the war effort. Amelie won't either.

Eventually, we reached the first door. Lily started lecturing immediately. She was an initiate, and I didn't like her on principle. How in the Maker's name Jowan got with an initiate, I'll never know.

"The Chantry calls this entrance the 'Victim's Door.' It is built of two hundred and seventy-seven planks, one for each original templar," she lectured. _That's elaborate_, I thought. "It is a reminder of all the dangers those cursed with magic pose."

_I am **not **cursed. I wish you Chantry fools would stop saying that. Bitch._ The last bit was just a spiteful thought.

"Whatever. How do we pass it?" I snapped.

"The door can be opened only by a templar and a mage entering together. The Chantry provides the password, which primes the ward, and the mage touched it with mana, to release it," she said, voice flowery. I frowned.

"Password, then?" I asked, gesturing to the door. I didn't care how she'd gotten it, or why. We didn't have time for this lectury shit.

"Sword of the Maker, Tears of the Fade," she said, holding her hand out at the door, which I thought was just for show. _That password has so many levels._

I summoned a fireball and shot it at the door. It clicked and swung open. I didn't question it, and led the way inside. We hurried up to the second door.

"Melt the locks off!" Jowan exclaimed to me, gesturing to the door. I nodded, and pressed the rod of fire into the keyhole. Nothing happened. No melting, nothing. I looked at them, and tried again, but there was still nothing.

"What's the matter?" Lily said urgently. "Why isn't it working?"

"How should I know?" I snapped, trying again.

"Something's not right," Jowan said. "I can't cast spells here. Nothing works!" He was moving his hands about, trying to summon mana. I raised my hand and tried to summon a fireball, but I couldn't even bring it into existence. I looked at the others in askance. Lily examined the doorframe, and reached her hand up, trailing it along some wards carved into the stone.

"These wards carved into the stone... this must be the templars' work. They negate any magic cast within this area," Lily informed us. I paused, looking harder at the wards, then once again trying to summon a fireball. I couldn't even seize the mana. The wards didn't negate magic; that was impossible. No, they suppressed our mana. A blood mage would be able to plow through the door if they wanted. For an organization against blood magic, the templars had few ways to fight them, when you thought about it. Even in mana suppression manacles, or somewhere with wards, a blood mage could use his blood instead of the mana and do whatever he willed. The Chantry was full of blind fools. "I should have guessed! Why would Greagoir and Irving use simple keys for such a door? Because magical keys don't work!"

That was something I didn't know: do magical keys even exist? I dismissed it. I could muse over questions like that later. Lily continued, though. "How do you keep mages away from something? Make their powers completely worthless!" _Well, that's not offensive or anything. _"That's it then! We're finished! We can't get in." I looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Was she just about to turn around and walk away? Fool. I looked around, thinking. There's _always_ more than one way.

"That door there. Where does it lead?" I asked, gesturing to the right.

"I don't know. Do you think it's another way in?" Lily questioned. Jowan shook his head.

"That door probably leads to another part of the repository. What are the chances of there being another entrance?"

"Ah, let's say next to none. The chances of me blowing a hole in the wall? Quite a bit higher," I told him, walking towards the door, waiting for the wards to be out of range. The two of them started walking with me, on either side. Lily decided she needed to make the decisions, and started repeating what I'd said and what we were going to do.

"We can't get into the repository the way we planned, but we're not giving up," she said. _There's a switch_. "We can see where this door leads, but I don't think it'll be easy... it looks locked, for one."

"As long as it's a normal lock, I'm not worried," I said simply.

"Let's hurry. We've wasted enough time," Jowan told us as we reached the door. I nodded to him, stepping up with the rod of fire. This time, the lock melted, and I hip checked the door while it was still liquid. It flew open, and on the other side, an enchanted suit of armor came to life. It attacked us, or tried to, it was actually frozen solid after the first step in our direction. I took point, and every suit of armor we passed was down in seconds from ice and lightning spells.

Eventually, we came to the repository, well, storage. There were all sorts of books and magical artifacts. I was immediately curious. What are these things the Chantry forbids us from? Could I take anything, hide it away? I looked around, my eyes wide. I snapped my attention back to Jowan, remembering why we were here with a internal sigh.

I still took a second to examine and take a black staff leaning against the wall, while walking a lap and looking for a door. There wasn't one. Then, as I passed by a statue, it _greeted _me.

"Greetings," it said. Jowan swore. "I am the essence and spirit of Eleni Zinovia, once consort and advisor to Archon Valerius. Prophecy my crime, cursed to stone for foretelling the fall of my lord's house."

"Archon Valerius?" I asked Jowan.

"I'm not sure. The archons were the lords of the Imperium," he replied. I nodded, knowing this already.

"'Forever shall you stand on the threshold of my proud fortress,' he said, 'and tell your lies to all who pass.' But my lord fund death at the hands of his enemies, and his once-proud fortress crumbled to dust, as I foretold," the statue answered vaguely.

"A Tevinter statue!" Lily exclaimed. _Did you just figure that out now?_ "Don't listen to it! The Tevinter lords dabbled in many forbidden arts! This is a wicked thing!"

This, of course, made me want to talk to it even more than I already did. I turned to Jowan. "How did a Tevinter statue get here?"

"It must have been here for years." He shrugged. "Look at the dust. I feel a little sorry for it... her."

"Weep not for me, child. Stone they made me and stone I am, eternal and unfeeling. And I shall endure 'til the Maker returns to light their fires again." I didn't understand what it... she meant.

"What does that mean?" I questioned.

"Ambiguous rubbish. Could mean anything. I can do it too: the sun grows dark, but lo! Here comes the dawn!" I laughed openly, and turned back to the statue.

"Stop talking to it. Please, both of you," Lily urged, putting her hand on Jowan's arm. I just rolled my eyes. Chantry.

"Well, there's not much to do with it anyway," I agreed. I walked back to the center of the room, and looked at the walls.

"Do you think the phylactery chamber is on the other side of this wall?" I asked, gesturing to a bookcase.

"I don't know. The wall looks about to come down any minute, though," Jowan pointed out. "Do you think we should knock it down?"

"I think we should try," I agreed. Lily stayed silent on the matter, thankfully. "Help me move the bookcase."

It didn't go exactly as planned; I got frustrated and just pushed it over completely. I looked at the books on the ground sadly. These were forbidden by the Chantry. I wished I could take more time and read them. _You could come back_, a voice pointed out. _You know the password, and how to get here._

I agreed with it, and turned to look at the wall. The mortar was loose in places, and it looked ready to crumble. I needed something with force, to knock it enough bricks out of place.

I knew some force magic, and started summoning the mana to do an offensive spell. I targeted the center of the wall, and released the magic. I closed my eyes and braced myself, and once I opened them again, there was a hole in the wall big enough to step through comfortably, and rubble all over the ground. I looked through the hole, noticing that we'd have to jump down. It was a significant drop, but I didn't hesitate to drop down. Jowan and Lily followed behind me.

"We must find Jowan's phylactery quickly," Lily ordered. I just rolled my eyes at her. We moved along the shelves, checking labels.

"Pity mine's in Denerim," I mentioned to Jowan as we searched.

"So you'd really destroy it, then?" Jowan asked, though I was sure he knew the answer.

"Of course," I said. "Then maybe the fourth time might be more permanent."

"I'm sure you'd be able to evade them, if you came with us. You're clever... not like me," Lily added. I ignored her. Yes, I was clever, unlike her, but no, it would be difficult to evade them. They always seem to catch up eventually, and I'd never be able to stay in one place for more than a night's rest until I reached Tevinter or Rivain.

"Here," I announced, gesturing to a vial on a desk. Jowan turned to look. His jaw dropped, as though he hadn't really thought we'd find it.

"That's my phylactery! You found it!" Jowan picked it up, starting into the crimson liquid. "I can't believe this tiny vail stands between me and freedom." Then he held it out in front of himself and continued ranting, a little creepily. "So fragile, so easy just to be rid of it... to end its hold over me..." then, he unceremoniously opened his hand, and the vial fell to the ground and shattered. "... and I am free."

I felt jealous at those words, but forced it down. There was no reason to weep over the unchangeable. "I'm tempted to break all of them."

"You could," Jowan pointed out. I looked over the vials and shrugged. There would be no point. Amelie's, Anders', and mine were all gone to Denerim. I didn't know any of the others, had no idea who would run. It would be utter chaos.

I was tempted, though. I settled for walking up to the table Jowan's had been on, assuming they'd probably be in his age range, and swept my arm across the table, breaking about seven of them. It felt _fantastic_, just to free those people. I refrained from breaking all the others, and considered the fact that I knew how to get in, now. I looked at Jowan.

"You were clumsy," I informed him. "Now, let's get out of here."

We exited the basements onto the first floor together, as Jowan exclaimed in celebration. He turned to face Lily and me. Of course, then I spotted a horde of templars and Irving walking towards us. My eyes popped.

"So what you said was true, Irving," Greagoir announced, stopping just in front of Jowan, who spun around to face him.

"Well," I said loudly. "This looks bad."

"G-Greagoir," Lily stuttered. Coward.

"An initiate, conspiring with a blood mage. I'm disappointed, Lily," he said, giving her a disapproving glare. Greagoir stepped closer to her, and looked into her eyes. "She seems shocked, but fully in control of her own mind. Not a thrall of the blood mage, then." That was probably paranoid, I decided. Greagoir turned back, walking over to Irving.

"You were right, Irving. The initiate has betrayed us. The Chantry will not let this go unpunished." He spun to face me with a condescending look. _Anger_. I checked myself. "And this one, newly a mage, and already flouting rules once again." Irving gave me _the look_.

"I am disappointed in you. You could have told me what you knew of this plan, and you didn't." _No, that would've been betrayal._

"You don't care for the mages!" Jowan snapped. "You just bow to the Chantry's every whim!"

"I have to agree," I added.

"Enough," Greagoir interrupted. "As Knight-Commander of the templars here assembled, I sentence this blood mage to death. And this initiate has scorned the Chantry and her vows. Take her to Aeonar." I flinched for her. Yes, for the Chantry bitch. Aeonar was a legend, and not the good kind. Two templars advanced on her, and she stuttered, moving backwards.

"The... the mages' prison. No... Please, no! Not there!"

"No!" Jowan interrupted. He drew a belt knife, and my jaw dropped. _That bastard lied! He could've told me! _I groaned. This would make things so much worse. "I won't let you touch her!" he yelled, and he slit his hand. There was a red mist, a defining feature of large blood magic spells, and the templars were blown backwards. Jowan turned to Lily, who backed away from him.

"By the Maker... blood magic! H-how could you? You said you never..." I couldn't resist rolling my eyes. Jowan stepped towards her, trying to defend himself.

"I admit, I... I dabbled! I thought it would make me a better mage!"

"Blood magic is evil, Jowan," Lily said. I didn't believe in evil, or in good. The world was all a shade of gray, to me. Therefore, blood magic was only dangerous, in my opinion. "It corrupts people... changes them..."

"I'm going to give it up," Jowan swore. "All magic. I just want to be with you, Lily. Please, come with me..." I watched with interest, knowing she'd never go with him.

"I trusted you. I was ready to sacrifice everything for you... I... I don't know who you are, blood mage. Stay away from me..." Lily yelled. I expected that. Jowan looked at her pleadingly for a moment before the templars began to stir, and he looked at me once more with a devastated expression on his face before charging from the room. I dropped backwards onto the floor, near Irving, who looked at me.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "Where's Greagoir?"

"I knew it... blood magic. But to overcome so many... I never thought him capable of such power..." the templar in question said as he stood up. I followed as did Irving.

"I can't believe he just did that," I muttered to myself. I couldn't believe it; how did he learn it? What sort of spell was that? Could I use mana to do it? That was _damn_ powerful! I slapped my palm to my forehead. "That _dumbass._"

"None of us expected this," Irving said to me, then turned to the Knight-Commander. "Are you all right, Greagoir?"

Oh, concern for the templar.

"As good as can be expected, given the circumstances! If you had let me act sooner, this would not have happened!" Greagoir rounded on Irving angrily. "Now we have a blood mage on the loose and no way to track him down!"

_Good, _I thought. I was conflicted; I was glad he'd escaped, but I was angry that he'd lied to me. I crossed my arms and dismissed his concerns. "I'm sure you'll think of _something_," I said. It was mocking.

"He destroyed his phylactery. He will be hard to locate," Irving said. Apparently, he didn't catch my mockery.

"Don't you think I know that?" Greagoir snapped. He spun around, looking wildly for something. "Where is the girl?" Lily drew attention to herself and stood up, facing the knight-commander.

"You helped a blood mage! Look at all he's hurt!" Greagoir exclaimed. I almost defended her, then stopped.

"You forced his hand," I said. _If it weren't for your damned Circle..._ Then Lily walked over to him, confessed to being accomplice to a blood mage, and accepted _Aeonar_! The _fool_.

"Get her out of my sight," Greagoir dismissed, waving an arm. Then, he finally spun his attention on me. _So, how long in solitary this time? _"And you. You know why the repository exists. Some artifacts, some magics, are locked away for a reason!"

"Did you take anything important?" Irving asked me, looking into my eyes. I shook my head. I'd wanted to, but I'd been preoccupied by Jowan. "And I believe you."

"But your antics have made a mockery of this Circle!" _Haven't they always done?_ "Ah... what are we to do with you?" _Probably solitary._

I shrugged. "What you'd like."

"You helped a blood mage escape," he said firmly, as though I wasn't grasping it. "All our prevention measures for naught—because of you!" I was rather proud of that, honestly. Suddenly, Duncan appeared out of nowhere. Had he been watching the entire time?

"Knight-Commander, if I may," he interrupted. "I am not only looking for mages to join the kind's army, I am also recruiting for the Grey Wardens. Irving spoke highly of this mage's skills, and I would like her to join the Warden ranks."

I think my jaw hit the floor. A mantra started repeating itself in my head. _Right of Conscription you can leave you can leave you can leave outside, outside, outside you can run you can run you can run..._

"Duncan, this mage has assisted a maleficar, and shown a lack of regard for the Circle's rules," Irving dissuaded, moving one hand as he spoke.

"She is a danger, to all of us," Greagoir insisted.

"I'm flattered," I deadpanned. It didn't matter now. The mantra repeated itself. Greagoir looked angrier. Irving disapproved more.

"It is a rare thing, a person who will risk all to help a friend. I stand by my decision. I will recruit this mage," Duncan insisted, ignoring my smart comment.

"No!" Greagoir shouted. "I will not let this go unpunished!"

"I will gladly go," I agreed cheerfully.

"Greagoir, mages are needed," Duncan said as though he'd said it too many times before. "This mage is needed. Worse things plague this world than blood mages. You know that. I take this mage under my wing and bear all responsibility for her actions." That sounded ceremonial.

"A blood mage escapes, and his accomplice is not only unpunished, but is regarded by becoming a Grey Warden. Are our rules nothing?" _Most definitely not._ "Have we lost all authority over our mages? This does not bode well, Irving."

"Enough," Irving sighed. "We have no more say in the matter."

"So I'm leaving?" I clarified. Irving turned to me.

"Yes. Be proud, child. You are luckier than you know."

I looked at Greagoir and snapped, "Perhaps I will be able to use my talents, now."

"You will have ample opportunity to hone your skills, I assure you," Duncan said. "Come, your new life awaits."

Duncan stepped back, and I followed. We walked out of the main hall together. I could still hear Greagoir arguing one-sidedly with Irving. I glanced at Duncan.

"Can I get my things?" I asked hesitantly. He looked back at the arguing pair, and nodded.

"Quickly," he said. "I must fetch my other recruit, as well. You have not met her?"

"No," I told him. "I wasn't aware there was one."

"I will fetch her. You get your things, and I will meet you at the entry hall," Duncan told me. I nodded in agreement.

"Very well," I said before heading towards my new, shared quarters. I really didn't have many things, after all, mages never received new items. I did have a bag, the outfit I arrived in, though the shirt, leggings and corset didn't fit any longer, the riding skirt did. I had a second pair of boots; decent, leather ones. Other than that, I had spare circle robes, which I wouldn't bother with. Sure, the lyrium weaved into them felt great, but I left all of them but the one I was wearing for a few reasons. One, I was sure I could get nicer ones outside the circle, it was unlikely they gave us very high grade. Wouldn't want us powerful, would they? Secondly, they looked ridiculous and I'd always hated them. They were too modest, honestly. For my tastes.

I had a trunk and a wardrobe in my half of the chambers, as well as a bookshelf blocking me off from the other half. It had proved convenient for privacy. There was also a desk. I grabbed my one bag, which had actually been Morgase's, and placed the cotton riding skirt in it. I'd taken a couple of things from Morgase's trunk before the templars came to get it all. They always burn it, so I figured she would prefer Amelie and I split it amongst ourselves and the other apprentices. We did so. I ended up with a nice pair of boots, which I put on my feet, and this bag.

I didn't have much else to bring, honestly, save for a few journals, which were full, as I'd been keeping one since arriving at the tower. They were full of my opinions, of facts about magic or other things I'd read. They talked about different things I could do with magic. It was partially personal and partially study. I grabbed the one I was currently working on, as well as my last empty one, and some quills and inkwells. There was only one completed one nearby as the rest were hidden in the library – _well hidden_ – so I grabbed it but didn't have time to get the others. Amelie knew where they were anyway.

After that, I sat down with the remaining one quill and one inkwell, and wrote on a spare piece of parchment a quick note to Amelie. The writing was messy.

_Amelie,_

_I'm so sorry I can't see you right now, I don't have time. I don't know what the templars will say, or Irving, but Jowan has escaped and I have been recruited into the Grey Wardens. I haven't decided if I'm going to go through with it or run._

_I don't have time for a lengthy explanation. I'll give you the simple details, at least, no one else will:_

_Jowan came to me earlier today to say that he was having an affair with an initiate named Lily. I think he told you about her. Well, he said that she saw papers for his tranquility, and asked me to help him destroy his phylactery and run. They thought he was a blood mage._

_By the way, he said he came to me instead of you because I'd run before, done solitary before, and he knew I could take it if things went wrong. I think he was worried for you. Don't hate him. Well, be mad, sure. But still._

_So, we went through all this shit and destroyed his phylactery, only to be caught by a group of templars, Greagoir and Irving. Jowan jumps up and does this blood magic thing, knocks everyone out, and asks Lily to go with him. She hates him, because he lied about blood magic, and he runs without her._

_After that, Lily's sent to Aeonar, and my fate was debated. Duncan came in a conscripted me out from under them._

_I'm so sorry that I'm leaving you here alone. I'm so, so sorry. Please Amelie, don't hate me._

_Anyways, Duncan is waiting for me with another recruit. Did you know there was another recruit?_

_I don't have time to write much more. I'm sure you're mad, have questions. This is a lot to take in. I'm sorry._

_If there's a way to get you out, I'll find it. I know you never ran with us, but I know you still want out. It'll happen. I'll make it happen._

_I suppose Anders will be back to keep you company some time. Always is._

_Good luck, (though I'm probably the one who'll need it more. Oh, well, I'd rather you had it. Remember, I'm really damn hard to kill. )_

_Your sister_

I folded the completed letter and pondered briefly where to put it. The templars would be in here soon, to get rid of everything. I doubted Amelie would have a chance to be in. I scrawled across the top of my letter: _Murei, this is for Amelie Surana, please deliver. From Moiraine. PLEASE. THANK YOU. SO MUCH._

I hurried into my roommate's chambers, which were empty, as I'd seen on my way in. I dropped it on her bed, expecting her to find it. I hoped it got to Amelie. Murei seemed really decent, and I thought it did. She was an entropy mage, and studied with Graeme as apprentices.

I hurried downstairs to meet Duncan, pack and staff in hand.

At least the events had stopped me from thinking about Anders._ Except at night,_ that familiar bitter voice added. _You cried. _I blinked a few times.


	6. I Am Machine (C)

VI: I Am Machine

_I wish I knew what it was like / to care about what's right or wrong / I wish someone could help me find / find a place where I belong_

_It wasn't supposed to be this way / we were meant to feel the pain / I don't like what I am becoming / wish I could just feel something (I Am Machine, Three Days Grace)_

**Author's Note: **So, this chapter is **extremely short**. I find Maerwyn difficult to write right now, and I really just want to skip to the Moiraine chapters. Agh. The next one should be up on Saturday night, and maybe the one after that, too. I have half of the next chapter written but I've pretty much caught up to what I have written and updates will be more erratic. I will get this done, though. Also, it's about halfway through the next chapter where I just jump to Morrigan, then the next chapter will be the Joining and after that the battle, within the next two chapters, then I'll be jumping straight into the main story and getting shit done.

Also, at the moment I have no romance planned for Maerwyn until Awakening, but because her chapters are so irritating to write, I'm considering adding one. But, for the sake of the story I may still leave it out. I haven't decided. I don't want her with Alistair because I don't want her to be Queen, and if she were to be, it would throw off the story. Leliana, I'm considering. I don't know. **Thoughts**?

Maerwyn III

I stood sullenly next to Duncan by the entrance to the tower. Neither of us spoke. The most words I'd said since leaving Highever were snapping 'don't speak to me' at Duncan after he asked if I wanted to talk about it. Other than that, he'd given me details on the Grey Warden order and on the situation in Ostagar. Apparently, it was a Blight. The Fifth Blight.

Ah, well. Everyone was dead. What did I care? Fergus was dead, Father was dead, Mother was dead, Oriana was dead, Oren was dead, Nan was dead, Brother Aldous was dead, Ser Gilmore was dead.

I was dead, at this point. I was a gaping hole of anger and bitterness.

I'd wanted to leave Duncan, run far away. I wasn't that sort of person, though. Fergus _could_ be at Ostagar, I admitted. He could also be dead on the side of the road. I refused all hope. Besides, at Ostagar, I could fight. Darkspawn, sure, not Howe, but it was still fighting, still killing. That, I _so_ wanted. So, I travelled. I was unsure. The Grey Warden order seemed well enough, and under other circumstances, I think I would've liked to join.

I didn't like how it seemed to be decided for me in exchange for my own life, as well. Perhaps I would have done it to save Mother, but _damn her_, she stayed behind, and I _hated_ her for that.

For the moment, I would stay. Perhaps I would even join, and then travel to Antiva or Orlais and join the Wardens there. I didn't want to be under Duncan's command, anyways. I could take being under someone's command, I would rather command myself, but I could do it. I _hated_ Duncan, though.

"Here she is," Duncan said, as a blonde woman in robed appeared from around the corner, holding a black staff and a bag. "This is Moiraine. Moiraine, this is Maerwyn."

Moiraine looked at me curiously and nodded her greeting. Her face was impassive. I nodded in return, staying silent.

"Now, let us be off. We are not exactly leaving happy people in our wake," Duncan said, gesturing to the front doors. Moiraine looked at them as though in awe as two templars came and pushed the heavy doors open. Duncan led the way out, and I followed. Moiraine hung back. The girl looked like she'd never seen the sky before. Or perhaps she hadn't. I dismissed it. Not my problem. Right now, all I wanted was to get to Ostagar and find Fergus.

_You'll take care of her, Mae, won't you_? I shook my head, as though trying to dislodge the thought.

The three of us travelled in silence. We went across a boat, captained by a man named Kester. When we reached the other side, Leanne jumped up, barking excitedly. On the way over, she'd refused to get on the boat. It had been odd sleeping without her, but we'd barely been there for a night, anyways. Moiraine looked at the dog curiously, maybe even jealously, and didn't seem nervous when Leanne went to examine her. She even reached out and scratched her head. We continued travelling along the road, south, until out of sight of the lake. Then, we stopped to make camp.

Moiraine looked uncomfortable as Duncan and I began setting up our tents.

"I... don't even have a bedroll," she said uncomfortably. Duncan looked at her for a second before nodding and going to fetch the spare.

"You can have my tent, if you'd like," he offered, but Moiraine shook her head immediately.

"I want to stay out here," she said. I couldn't imagine why. I finished the last peg on my tent and dropped my things inside. I turned and began gathering a bit of wood for a fire wordlessly, along the treeline. When I returned, Moiraine was sitting on a log and Duncan was searching for something in his pack. I built the fire, and when I pulled out flint to light it, Moiraine touched my arm to stop me from reaching in. A second later, without her even blinking, the fire was lit. Right, she was a mage. I'd forgotten, somehow. I nodded to her in thanks, and moved to sit on my own log for a moment.

It was past dark, we'd been travelling for maybe an hour. I suspected it was just to put distance between us and the tower, as Duncan just pulled out a few strips of dried meat to snack on. I accepted mine without a word, though Moiraine thanked him, and after I was finished, I just turned and slipped into my tent. I could _feel_ Moiraine watching me curiously.

The next morning, I woke to find that Duncan was already packing everything up, and Moiraine was finished, not having a tent and all. I hurried to finish taking my tent down, as well. Leanne sat, watching me.

Eventually, camp was torn down and we were ready to set out. I walked in silence, ate in silence, and simply stewed in my own anger.

A few days passed this way. Duncan and Moiraine talked about the Grey Wardens, and about the situation as it was. They talked about blood magic, for some reason, and in relation to the Grey Wardens. I could've sworn I heard him imply it was accepted, maybe even taught. They talked about _any means necessary_, probably applying to the blood magic, and using said means against the darkspawn. Moiraine seemed to agree with most of his ideas. Perhaps that was why she stayed. I'd seen her, on the second night, looking out into the forest, and back at our tents.

We were halfway to Ostagar by the time I said anything.

"So," Moiraine said to me. Also the first time she really spoke to me. She and I were walking a few feet behind Duncan. I couldn't help but notice that despite being locked in a tower for years, she was really quite in shape. A mage thing? Or did she find time to exercise? "Where are you from?"

When I didn't answer, she just continued speaking. "I'm from Kirkwall, myself." She was looking at me with an odd expression on her face. Pity? No. Definitely not. I felt irritated, but not angry. "The templars came and I ran. Got on a ship to Denerim. They got me there. Been at Kinloch Hold since I was twelve or so. That's later than most," she rambled. "Those of us who arrived late had it worse. We could remember what it looked like outside, see. Morgase was like that too... Jowan didn't remember a life before, though. I felt bad for him, and he felt bad for us. We both thought we preferred it our way. I know it was worse remembering, but I wouldn't want to forget... I..." she seemed unsure what else to say, and a little uncomfortable.

"I..." I croaked, my voice hoarse with disuse. "I'm from... Highever." She smiled at me and nodded.

After that, she and I managed a light conversation. We didn't talk about ourselves; neither of us wanted to. Instead, we managed animated conversation about other things, like Grey Wardens, the Blight, mage rights, blood magic, and other heavy topics amongst ourselves. Oddly, we both took the conversations lightly, as though the only real heavy topic at the moment was our pasts. It seemed we agreed on that point. Duncan left us to it.

"Blood magic isn't evil," she was saying.

"I don't know enough about blood magic to know. The Chantry says it corrupts," I pointed out. The Chantry didn't mean much to me anymore, though. "To each his own."

"The Chantry is wrong," Moiraine said. There was a heated undertone, at mention of the Chantry. "Or maybe they aren't. I don't know, personally. I knew a blood mage, though, and he didn't change one bit. I personally think that evil isn't something that exists. There's just one thing, and another. We all do what we have to..."

"We're here," Duncan interrupted. Ostagar. I could see the tips of the ruins over the trees.

I didn't say anything else, nor did Moiraine. We just talked to pass the time, and the time was passed. It seemed we would be Grey Wardens after all. We'd both expressed doubts, and speculation over this Joining.

We were here, now, and it seemed final. Moiraine was expressionless. I probably looked like I'd swallowed my own tongue.

I never made a conscious decision to join the Wardens. I think Moiraine did, but I didn't. Now, I was internally panicking. I wanted so badly to know if Fergus was alive, though.

It seemed that the only thing I could do was continue, and see what happens. I could still go to Orlais or Antiva, the Free Marches, or anywhere else once this was over. Away from Duncan, but in the Wardens. Perhaps the Anderfels. That might have potential.

I don't know why I warmed up to the idea so much.

_But what if you are Teyrna?_ A voice asked. I gave it a nod. If Fergus hasn't arrived to Ostagar, he is dead, and I am Teyrna. I will refuse to join the Wardens and leave for Highever once the battle is over, with the king, to get rid of Howe. If Fergus has arrived, that means he is in no danger that he wouldn't have been in otherwise, and I will join the Wardens.

This decided, I felt more comfortable as we wandered towards the ruins. Moiraine looked eager for something and I shot her a questioning look.

"I can get out of these robes," she replied. I laughed hollowly. It was a false laugh, like all the false smiles. It was obvious. She said nothing about it. Duncan started speaking as we walked. I didn't pay attention to most of it. I only started listening as we approached the entrance to the ruins.

"There are only a few Grey Wardens within Ferelden at the moment, but all of us are here. This Blight must be stopped here and now. If it spreads to the north, Ferelden will fall."

That sounded... well. No use worrying now.


End file.
